Meet Me At The End Of The World
by BruisedSmile
Summary: Sometimes it takes an apocalypse to open your eyes.


**AN** Something short and fun and rather different from my usual stuff so I'm interested to know if it's any good at all. Cheers and happy reading.

* * *

**Meet Me At The End Of The World**

* * *

The world ended on a Wednesday morning.

Rachel Berry had gone to bed on Tuesday night worried about nothing more than her English test on Thursday and her upcoming NYADA audition. She woke up to a world torn apart by a mutating virus that was spreading faster than you could cry _'Resident Evil rip off'._ As she searched frantically for her dads, raided the local armoury, honed her already formidable organisational skills and rallied as many survivors as she could – essay notes and choir competitions suddenly didn't seem so important anymore. A true sign of just how dire circumstances had become. It was years of dedicated ambition and months of careful practice thrown away, and she was more than a little annoyed about it. Yet there was nothing to be done about it now, and it wasn't as if she didn't have ample opportunity to vent her frustration during her new daily routines of salvage and survival in the ruins of her hometown. And when you were so furious all the time, you didn't have time to be scared. From the moment she had decapitated her next door neighbour with a conveniently placed garden spade that fateful morning, her world as she knew it, was over. Rachel had seen her dreams of Broadway and stardom combust in a shower of rotting flesh, only to be replaced with a minute-by-minute battle for mere existence. Her life had turned into one of those obscene video games that Finn had enjoyed playing so much and she was just going to have to learn to make the best of it.

That was twenty eight days ago.

Turns out that shooting a gun was a lot like riding a bike, and Rachel felt the target practice from her youth come flooding back as she set about navigating the playground of death that Lima had become. It had been her cousin who had first taught her how to aim and shoot when she had played with him and the boys after school. To everyone's surprise she had shown quite a knack for it, even if it was only a BB gun, to the point where her skill had far surpassed his friends and they had refused to let her come along anymore. The fact was that Rachel had always been adaptable, quick to learn and compulsively prepared, and that had helped her survive where so many others had fallen. The epidemic of fear and panic was almost as deadly as the virus itself, and she refused to let herself succumb to such dangerous hysteria. Acceptance was the only lifeline to sanity, and so she had no choice but to let go of what was gone. Denial would only get you killed quicker. The world was what it was and there was no escaping that.

There had been nine of them in those first few days, a rag-tag band of misfits who had found each other in the horror and grief of the aftermath, huddling together as they attempted to forge some kind of existence in this new hostile land. It was a dynamic not so dissimilar to the original New Directions when she stopped and thought about it – only with a lot more gore and violence and cursing. There had been familiar friends, old enemies and complete strangers that had come and gone throughout the weeks, brought together and torn apart through either stupid mistakes or dumb luck, until their little group had finally whittled down to only three. Perhaps the most unlikely trio of survivors.

And those three companions had been arguing repeatedly recently over the decision of leaving town. Rachel knew her friends wanted to make a break for it while they could, but she was still reluctant. Lima was all that remained of her decimated home and something told her to wait, that she needed to stay close by, hold onto common territory. She had always trusted that little voice of instinct, and she just had to hope that listening to it now wouldn't end up costing their lives. Her old teammates had reasoned, bargained and even threatened – but in the end had relented to waiting it out with her. They would never leave each other now. They were all they had left.

* * *

This particular morning, they were raiding a pharmacy store for supplies. Rachel had laid out the operation with a military like precision – including their route, weapons and a shopping list. But in true New Directions fashion, nothing was quite going to plan. The trio had hoped the almost unbearably humid weather would discourage the rabid herds that usually roamed about the streets, but instead the heat only seemed to be enhancing their all-too appetizing scent. Sweat seeped from their skin and it was like a siren call to the starving mobs of undead, announcing their proximity even as they moved as quickly and quietly as they could.

Eyes alert and trigger finger poised, Puck strained to listen to every sound in the superstore. He had to admit, he didn't quite understand why they were risking their necks for such a pedestrian pick up. It all seemed a bit indulgent when there were so many other things they could do with stocking up on – namely gas and ammo – but the girls had been most vocal and insistent about the location of today's outing. Truthfully, he had quickly learnt his lesson when it came to the futility of arguing with his two companions and their endless _female issues_. Puck sighed. Sometimes he wished he had another guy around just for a little moral support. If only Finn hadn't gotten himself eaten, he thought irritably. Shaking his head, he walked on, keeping guard and taking out the odd stray zombie while Rachel plundered the shelves behind them for supplies. Casting his gaze about, Puck spotted something that actually peaked his interest. As he swiped the two dozen pack of condoms off the shelf and stuffed it into his rucksack, he heard someone clear their throat next to him. He looked up to see Quinn standing with one hand perched on her hip and an arched eyebrow. He winked at her, grinning cockily. "A little something for later."

Quinn rolled her eyes. Not even a zombie apocalypse could dampen Puck's sex drive. "Someone's optimistic," she remarked dryly.

"Hey, who knows when we'll next be able to pick up stuff like this? Just thinkin' ahead."

"I hardly think the world's in danger of running out of that particular product line any time soon," she scoffed before lifting her gun to blast a lumbering corpse who looked suspiciously like their old gym teacher. The zombie flew backwards in a spray of blood and smashed into a stand of hair dyes, the impact proceeding to knock over row after row of shelves like dominos. Quinn winced, swearing under her breath as all attempts at covert stealth went up in smoke. The deafening crash succeeded in attracting all kinds of unwanted attention and soon the moan and groan of the local population was thundering in their ears, closing in way too fast for their liking.

"Uh, Rach!" Puck yelled as he raised his own gun down the aisle and fired. "Might wanna hurry up!"

Rachel glanced up and grimaced before sweeping the last shelf of products into her rucksack and slinging it over her shoulder. A grotesquely familiar rumble was pulsing through the air, emanating from the shattered glass entrance at the other end of the store, and getting louder by the minute. The car was at least two streets away. Scraping the last remnants of her original plan, Rachel quickly recalculated their chances. They were going to have to blast their way out of here, retreat and make their way through the loading bay, as the front was pretty much a no-goer. She fingered the grenade around her belt, her hand going to the gun at her hip, every bullet poised for battle bar the last one. She wouldn't get turned. _Last resort_, she told herself.

Pulling the glock from her waist, Rachel turned and sprinted down the aisle, back towards where she could hear Puck and Quinn already fighting against the approaching wave of zombies. They probably had less than a few minutes to get out before the building was overrun. Jumping over scattered merchandise, she skirted the rotting bodies of already fallen foes, turned on her heel and rounded the corner of the next aisle a moment too fast.

She recoiled back from the stench of decay that met her, almost stumbling even as she raised her arm and fired on instinct. Skull and brain exploded in a splatter of festering matter not a second too soon, but Rachel was already spinning around as another oozing corpse lunged from her left. It was too close, too quick, and Rachel barely had time to aim before it was almost on top of her. She skidded backwards, hoping to buy herself a few more seconds, reaching for the serrated knife she kept specifically for such close combat. However before she could blink, the lurching zombie was sliced in half, its head severed clear from its neck, leaving its body to crumple to the floor only mere inches away from her. Rachel reflexively snapped her gun up to where the zombie had just been, before lowering it just as quickly, her eyes going wide.

"Jesse?"

She uttered the name almost in a whisper of disbelief, as if she feared her eyes were deceiving her. Breath burned in her lungs, hard and frantic from just having almost died or worse, the adrenaline of battle, but even more from the sight she was currently staring at. Rachel watched as he dropped his own weapon and straightened up, sheathing the almost Samurai blade back over his shoulders in one fluid movement. She couldn't help but notice that he was eerily graceful in deadly conflict. All those years in VA had truly paid off in the oddest of ways.

His choice of outfit was reminiscent of a renegade SWAT commando, complete with fitted black t-shirt and combat boots, and Rachel half expected to see a branded tattoo on his bicep as her eyes drifted down his heightened physique. Rumpled curls brushed his forehead in such a familiarly tempting way that her fingers itched with the urge to run through them, to clench tight and never let go. Sweat glistened lightly on his skin as he tried to catch his own breath, muscles knotted firmly in those strong arms, always ready to react at a second's notice. His dark blue gaze was just as captivating as she remembered, rapt and glowing with a hundred different emotions as he drank her in like she was the only person left in the world. Which, of course, she nearly was.

"Y-You're alive."

That made his lips quirk in a grin and her heart threatened to stop all together. "Last time I checked."

There was a rattle of gunfire from a few aisles over, accompanied by some choice swear words in Puck's raised voice, but the two lost lovers barely broke away from each other's eyes.

"What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you. As usual," he replied, as easily as if she had simply inquired about the weather. "I figured just follow the action. If there's any drama going down, you're bound to be in the middle of it." He nearly rolled his eyes that she still felt the need to ask. His answer was never going to change. Rachel would always be the only person he would willingly walk into hell for, again and again. "Uh, on your right," he added almost absently, nodding over her shoulder. "Do you want me...?"

Rachel sighed. "No, I got it."

Jesse smiled as he saw her holster the gun and opt instead for the baton. Whirling around to meet the approaching zombie, she swung out and smashed its head in with a powerhouse hit that would be the envy of many World Series players. Rachel turned back to him without so much as a beat of hesitation, as if there was nothing out of the ordinary about their circumstances in the slightest. After all, battling a constant assault of walking undead had simply become second nature to them both. She pushed her hair off her forehead with the back of her hand, continuing their conversation as if they had never been interrupted.

"But you were in LA!" she protested stubbornly. "That's two thousand, two hundred and forty-one miles away!" No one was surprised that she knew the exact distance between them, probably down to the last few inches, which they were now in the process of quickly closing. "How..."

"Traffic was light." He grinned before suddenly spinning around, pulling her behind him and shooting the head off another rotting corpse that lunged down the row towards them. He turned around again and they were practically nose to nose now, bodies touching and faces close. "Rach, I –" Jesse reached out a hand to her cheek but was rudely interrupted before his fingers could make contact.

"Eat _this_ you fuckin' bastards!"

The couple quickly broke apart, wheeling around with guns raised and ready, only to see Quinn and Puck round the corner behind them at almost breakneck speed, Puck still firing backwards at the swarm of zombies that was quick on their heels. Rachel opened her mouth, but neither her companions seemed particularly shocked or curious as to Jesse's sudden appearance in their midst. When the world falls into a shithole, it gets to a point where things just stop surprising you.

"Guys!" Quinn shouted in exasperation as she loaded another clip into her gun and fired a few more rounds over her shoulder. "Not to spoil the moment but do you think you can leave the romancing for later? Like for when we're not surrounded by a hoard of motherfucking _zombies!"_

Jesse and Rachel spared one last _highly-inappropriate-in-the-circumstances_ smile at each other before quickly returning their attention to their current dire peril. "After you," Jesse murmured, all but shoving Rachel in front of him as he and Puck fell into rear guard. The girls raced ahead, clearing the way as the four teenagers resumed shooting, slicing and smashing their way out of the drugstore, hurtling down the aisles in a hail of gunfire, bolting for the back entrance.

"Quinn!" Rachel shouted at the top of her lungs as they crashed out of the loading dock, her voice barely audible over the roar of their pursuers. The blonde nodded and as if by some unspoken pre-arranged agreement, the girls unclipped their grenades simultaneously and threw them back into the darkness, into the heart of the hoard that was dangerously close behind them.

The explosion was deafening, the impact hurling them to the shaking ground even as they retreated as fast as they could, knocking the breath from their bodies. Rachel barely had time to inhale a lungful of dust and smoke before a calloused hand hooked her under the elbow and hauled her roughly back to her feet and they were running again. As flames engulfed the building behind them and still more zombies stumbled out into the open, roused by the noise, the quartet of survivors made a last desperate dash through the few streets that separated them from their only chance of escape.

Rachel nearly sobbed in relief as the battered Range Rover finally broke into view, mercifully untouched and just as they had left it. Quinn threw herself behind the wheel and the engine thundered into life. Jesse and Rachel jumped into the back and Puck leapt in beside the former Cheerio just as the tyres screeched and the truck sped away from the curb, running over a few clawing corpses in the process.

"Trying to leave me behind, were you?" Puck accused in annoyance, barely managing to slam the door shut after him as the car rocketed off violently.

"Don't tempt me," Quinn muttered, her hands clenched tight on the steering wheel in concentration.

Puck snorted. "Love you too."

Rachel completely ignored the bickering couple in the front, her attention fixed solely on the boy beside her. As the car jolted over another body in the road, she narrowed her eyes as she watched Jesse flinch and bite down a grimace. She saw his hand stray to his leg and frowned when she noticed the dark stain of blood seeping through his thigh.

"You're hurt."

"It's nothing."

"Did you get bitten?" Puck demanded, twisting in his seat as Quinn's eyes flew to the rear view mirror sharply.

Rachel shook her head as she tentatively traced her fingertips over the wound, her voice terse. "It's just a gash."

"Rach –"

"_Keep driving,"_ the brunette commanded, snapping so fiercely that Quinn clamped her mouth shut and pressed her foot almost flat against the gas, narrowly avoiding side swiping the car against a tree as she cut the corner and swung onto the next street.

"It's fine, really," Jesse assured, unfazed by her formidable temper. "Stop fussing."

"Shut up," she muttered firmly, accepting none of his bravado. "Just because you saved my life doesn't mean I have to start listening to you."

Jesse couldn't help but smile. She was still so Rachel. And it was tremendously reassuring in the face of total annihilation to know that some things would never change.

Rachel withdrew her knife and carefully cut away at his jeans to better see the wound. The gash in his flesh was wide but not that deep, making it look a lot worse than it was. Yet Rachel still felt a flurry of fear swarm inside her, kicking her heart into her throat. Without thinking, she yanked at the stained and charred remains of her shirt and sliced a strip of fabric from the hem.

"Really, Rach?" Jesse teased, arching a smug eyebrow as he watched her rip away the material from her stomach to reveal swathes of soft flesh underneath. "I know you missed me but can't you control yourself until we at least park up?"

She raised her eyes to scowl at him impatiently. "I could always gag you instead," she threatened, flexing the length of cloth taught in front of his face in point.

Jesse smirked. "Promises, promises."

Despite all they had been through, despite everything she had seen and done since the world descended into hell, Rachel still managed to blush. She quickly returned her eyes to her task, biting her lip against the smile that was tugging them. Wrapping the cloth tightly around his thigh, she tied it off and pressed as hard as she dared in an effort to stem the blood.

"Yeah, Rach, why the rush for such drastic measures?" Puck chipped in from the front seat. "Didn't you just swipe a month's worth of medical supplies in that bag at your feet? Pretty sure there's some ready made bandages amongst them."

"Oh. That." Rachel mentally thunked her forehead.

Jesse laughed out loud for possibly the first time since society had collapsed, since he had set out from the ruins of LA to find her again in this apocalyptic world. And the musical sound was magical to Rachel, warming a place deep inside her that she had long believed had turned cold. He dropped his head back against the seat and snaked his fingers into her hair, fingertips gently massaging the back of her scalp, a lazy smile on his lips despite the discomfort in his leg. Rachel closed her eyes for a moment in languid pleasure at his touch, her body electrifying even as she forced herself to focus. She turned back to him. "Well, it's not like anyone will notice a few more rips and tears in your outfit anyway. Since you opted to sport the Rambo look."

"As opposed to the _Terminator_-chic that you're favouring?"

"Apocalypse fashion," she quipped back with a smile. "It's all the rage, don't you know."

"_Ahem_," Quinn interrupted pointedly from the driver's seat. "We're not exactly out of mortal peril just yet if you hadn't noticed, so if it's not too much trouble, maybe you could drop the flirting and pick up a fucking _gun!_"

Feeling a little like naughty teenagers being reprimanded by their irritable parents, Jesse and Rachel grinned at each other before snatching up their weapons once more and aiming out the windows, picking off any straggling zombies who strayed too close to their hurtling car. They didn't want anything following them back to base after all.

* * *

She all but pounced on him the moment they arrived at the safe house.

Her former teammates merely rolled their eyes, unbothered by the heated display, all too aware of the layered history that existed between the two drama queens. "We'll get the bags, shall we?" Quinn muttered under her breath, making Puck chuckle as they hoisted up the rucksacks from the hallway and headed for the supply room, leaving the absorbed lovers to get on with it.

Rachel moaned against his mouth, barely breaking from their fierce kiss as she half-led and half-pulled him up the stairs and into her adopted bedroom, their hands too tangled up in each other to even bother shutting the door behind them. Rachel didn't care how long it had been since they had seen each other or what had passed before the world had ended – all she knew was that she was never wasting another _second _when it came to Jesse. Not when every precious moment could very likely be their last. She had travelled through hell to recover it, but Rachel had finally found something she thought she had forsaken forever.

_Hope._

Everything had been stripped from them. All the comforts of pretence and denial, the armour of pride and the luxury of time. But if their love could still survive in the gaping maw of such horror, then maybe, just maybe, there was a way to live in this world after all. At last releasing her bruised lips from his, Rachel cracked her eyes open and gazed into his face, drinking in every inch. Her fingers stroked through his mussed curls as she bathed under the warmth of his expression, the beauty in his maturing features, the soft pant of his breath and the silent devotion that burned in his deep sapphire eyes. She ran her tongue over her swollen lips and felt his hands squeeze around her waist, an instinct of possessive protection he wasn't even aware of. With a trembling sigh, Rachel dropped her head and coiled her arms around him in a bone-crushing hug.

"I thought I'd never see you again," she confessed quietly, the words coming out barely above a whisper as she buried her face in his chest, which was even more toned than she remembered. Perhaps there was something to be said for zombie cardio after all.

"Nice to know you have such faith in my survival skills," he returned, smiling against the top of her head. "You don't climb to the top of the show choir world without a high level of ruthlessness, you know."

She lifted her head, quirking an eyebrow at him. "Zombie apocalypse. It's hardly the same thing."

"Hey, I came back to _McKinley_ for you. Next to that, crossing a country of walking undead holds no fear."

Rachel laughed, kissing him again and pulling him back against the wall with her, crushing their bodies together as their tongues fought for dominance. It was a battle neither would ever win, but that was why they enjoyed it so much. For the first time in exactly twenty eight days, Rachel felt safe – felt truly _alive._ She drowned in his taste, savouring every brush of his hot skin against hers, the familiar grip and caress of his hands as they held her tight against him. She wanted to stay in his strong embrace forever, here with his arms wrapped so close around her, setting a fire in her flesh and deeper still in her heart.

Fresh sweat beaded across their bodies as they dragged each other down into the tangled sheets, their skin already damp and sticky from running for their lives and the generally sweltering Ohio summertime. The furnace in Rachel's chest felt like it was spilling over, heat rushing through her veins in a river of unquenchable flames. She kissed her way slowly over his wounds as she uncovered them one by one and he reverently traced each of hers, the burns and scars that marred their battle torn flesh, yet they were still more beautiful than heaven to each other. In one another they had found the truest form of paradise, one that could never exist anywhere else. Under a simmering afternoon sun and in the midst of a crumbling world, Rachel and Jesse made love like it was the last time they ever would. More tender and sincere than any marriage vow, and more vigorous a workout than any day of cheating death and killing zombies.

They lay tangled together in the quiet stillness that followed, breath coming out hard and quick as they languished in the most satisfying kind of exhaustion, both more than content to never leave this room again.

"I have to say," Jesse teased, lips brushing her forehead. "If that's the reaction I get every time I save your life, I'm going to do it a lot more often."

"And what do I get if I save yours?" Rachel inquired, circling her fingertips over his chest thoughtfully, relishing the feel of his racing heartbeat under her hand.

He smiled and kissed her again, rolling over to assault her neck between hot murmurs. "Don't tempt the devil," he warned playfully.

"Too late," she whispered, her lips curving against his as he found her mouth once more.

"Hmm. You'll just have to find out then, won't you?"

Her breath grew ragged and shallow under him, salt tainting the taste of her lips, even as she crashed her mouth to his with a burning desperation. Gently but firmly pulling back from the demand of her kiss, Jesse stroked her cheek, catching the falling tears with his thumb. "Hey, hey," he hushed softly, feeling his heart tear anew at the submerged pain that swam in those glistening eyes as they finally met his. Gathering her into his arms and pulling her to his chest, Jesse felt her curl up against his side, pressing painfully close with all the desire she possessed to somehow disappear inside his embrace. He held her for a long time, letting her sob out her grief and fear and relief for all that had been lost and found. Rachel could do nothing but cling to him and cry his name over and over again like an absolution.

"I'm never leaving you. Never again," Jesse promised fiercely, his voice husky with emotion and unshed tears. "Where you go, I go."

"Until the end of the world?" she teased, sniffing even as her lips trembled in a smile.

He kissed her forehead. "And after."

Rachel gave a choked laugh, before tilting her face up to catch his lips again and effectively silencing them both. However, neither could ever stay quiet for long.

* * *

Downstairs, the two other occupants of the fortified house rolled their eyes exasperatedly at the ceiling above their heads.

"Jeez, if those two don't quieten down, every undead and his mother will know where to find us!"

"Oh, like you're one to talk," Quinn retorted with a knowing arch of her brows. Puck grinned at her and shrugged, before resuming his search through his rucksack. He suddenly exclaimed as he yanked out the Durex carton he had picked up back at the drugstore, his expression darkening as he scowled down at the torn open lid.

"Sneaky bastards," he muttered. "They could have at least asked!"

Quinn burst out laughing.

**~o~**


End file.
